


Never Laugh at a Live Dragon

by redhairedwriter7



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bilbo and Frodo now live in Erebor, Dragons and Dragon riders, F/M, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance, Thorin is now King Under the Mountain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhairedwriter7/pseuds/redhairedwriter7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year was 2949 and all was well in Middle Earth, particularly for those who resided in Erebor and its neighboring city of Dale. </p><p>Smaug has been dead for eight years. Thorin is now King Under the Mountain and Erebor is once again a grand and fruitful kingdom. Bilbo and his young nephew have traveled back to Erebor and the company of Thorin Oakenshield have started new lives for themselves. It appears that everyone is at peace.</p><p>Well, that was until another dragon is found in an abandoned mine... along with his rider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fourth fic! I'm really excited to start writing this! :) I hope you all enjoy it! 
> 
> Note: I have the rating as Mature just to be safe. There will be some foul language and violence later on into the story.
> 
> Just to provide some background information...
> 
> \- Post BoFA (everyone lives/nobody dies)  
> \- Thorin is now king and Fili is next in line to the throne  
> \- Bilbo goes back to the Shire and brings his recently orphaned nephew to Erebor (Yes, that means that there will be Bagginshield)

The year was 2949 and all was well in Middle Earth, particularly for those who resided in Erebor and its neighboring city of Dale. 

The city of Men was near completion in restoration, as was Erebor. The great Kingdom Under the Mountain stood tall and was just as grand as it was so long ago. Dale’s large towers and buildings had returned to their former glory, a pale tan painted over the stone. Within the first year, hundreds upon hundreds of Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and the Iron Hills traveled far to reach their homeland and were greeted with nothing less than the finest hospitality and open arms. Even the Lady Dís, sister of the newly crowned king, had arrived and was relieved to hear that her sons and brother had survived this terrible ordeal. 

As for the Dwarves of Erebor, a celebration in honor of Crown Prince Fíli’s ninetieth birthday was in order. Although the celebration was not until next week, everyone was excited to have a weeklong celebration of their own. In the cobblestone streets of Dale, streamers of red and gold - the prince’s favorite colors - were hung across archways and doors throughout the city. Flowers of various colors - roses, forget-me-nots, and lilies were scattered about the roads and walkways, complementing the vines that wove up and down the pillars. 

Children of Men and Dwarves raced down the streets, laughing and playing with wooden swords as their elders prepared their homes for the prince’s birthday. Everyone in Dale was preparing for the special occasion, decorating their own places as fancy as they could. Most of them were taking out their finest robes, dusting off the cobwebs that had grown on the fabric after years of being stowed away in a wooden trunk. And with all of this preparation, it had to mean one thing: a feast. 

Everyone was excited beyond their wits for what was to come and so was the royal family. Inside the king’s great palace, servants were bustling around to do their work and to make sure that this event was one to remember. They dashed through the dark and cold corridors, hanging up streamers of gold and red, arranging beautiful bouquets of flowers in every room. Many of the servants were in the throne room, dusting and polishing the floors until their reflections could be seen. Inside in the main dining hall, a large chandelier, which was made of diamonds, sapphires, and white crystals, hung over the center of the room, dangling above the heads of Thorin and Dís, who were gazing up at the masterpiece.

After nodding in approval, Thorin acknowledged the Dwarf who was currently working on the beautiful creation. The ginger-haired Dwarf nodded to his king before setting his attention once more on the hanging jewels. The Dwarf king held out his arm for his sister, which she gladly took. They then made their way out of the throne room, acknowledging those who curtsied or bowed in respect with slight nods. 

“I believe you have outdone yourself, sister. I am sure Fíli will enjoy it,” Thorin mused once they had exited the room. 

Dís threw her head back with a laugh and patted her brother on the arm in reassurance. “Well, it’s not everyday your eldest turns ninety.” The princess remarked with a sigh.  

Leading Thorin towards one of the open windows peering out on the grassy and rough hills of the mountain, Dís removed her arm from his and gazed out. As she did, a faint smile appeared on her lips. Curious, Thorin strode up next to his younger sister and saw his two nephews in training with his friend Dwalin. The Dwarf king held back a snort as he watched Kíli strike towards Dwalin only to be tackled by the muscular dwarf. Fíli had doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach while his brother was successfully pinned by Dwalin. 

It was a humorous sight. Well, it was in Thorin’s dark blue eyes.

But not for the Lady Dís.

Releasing a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumped. She leaned over the cool railing of the balcony. By the way her sons were acting, she was reminded of her husband, Vili, and of when he used to train them. His loss had affected their boys greatly. There were nights when Kíli would wake in the middle of the night, kicking and screaming, with hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Fíli would rush to his younger brother’s aide and cradle the young dwarrow in his arms, humming a lullaby in his ear. She would come into the room, stopping at the door to see her boys curled into an embrace and sleeping soundly.  

“I remember when they were much younger, so carefree and rambunctious,” she said. “They would always sneak off and go looking for trolls, only to come back covered in twigs, mud, bumps and bruises… oh, they’ve grown up so much, Thorin.” 

Thorin covered his hand with hers. “They will always need their mother, Dís,” he said reassuringly. “They will always need you, whether or not they would like to admit it.”

Dís smiled at her brother and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, patting him on the arm. She thanked him for the talk in their native tongue and began to make her leave. Appearing from one of the rooms, Balin came striding towards the two siblings with a bundle of parchment in his arms. 

“Good afternoon, Balin. I will leave you to talk with my dear _nadad_.” Dís spoke, curtsying. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have some other matters to attend to for the party next week.”

Balin bowed to his princess and nodded in understanding. “Of course, m’lady,“ he replied. 

Before she left, Dís turned to her brother and wagged an accusing finger at him. “I will expect you at dinner tonight, Thorin Oakenshield. No excuses; I don’t want you to skip out on another meal.” With the threat lingering in the air, Dís strode from the king she called brother and his head advisor. Balin chuckled as the princess left the corridor and glanced over to Thorin who was blushing in embarrassment.  

Having heard the snickering, Thorin shot the white-bearded dwarf a glare and motioned for Balin to follow him. The two walked in silence. As they approached the meeting hall, both guards bowed and then opened the doors for Thorin and Balin to enter. They strode into the hall and the door was closed behind them. Balin turned to meet Thorin’s gaze with a pointed look.  

“Your sister means well, laddie. I have no doubt that she has planned out every detail for the party with the utmost care,“ Balin murmured as the pair entered the meeting hall. Walking to the head of the wooden table, Thorin grumbled under his breath and ran a large hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his sore neck. 

“I have no doubt about that,” Thorin commented.

Balin took notice of this and nodded calmly. The dark haired dwarf sat down in his large chair, wincing as his lower back began to ache. Over the last few years, his dark hair had grown more grey streaks than when he had gone on the quest for Erebor. His eyes were the same icy blue but the passion had begun to dull as time passed. 

Time had aged him but that was no surprise. It had done the same to the entire company of thirteen dwarves. Many were quite happy that peace was finally at hand. All of the thirteen dwarves had chosen to stay in Erebor and settle down, returning to their trade and moving on with their lives. Of course, there were times when the company would meet in Dale’s finest pub, drink away their stresses, and reminisce of their past adventures. It was moments like these when Thorin wished he was a young prince instead of an old king.   

The white-haired dwarf sat down into the chair to Thorin’s left and placed his calloused hands on the wooden table, the parchment lay next to him. 

“Most of all the preparations for next week have been completed; your sister is quite the organizer,” Balin spoke, sending a quick glance to Thorin. When he received no response from the dark haired king, the white bearded dwarf cleared his throat and said, “Your nephews have told me that they wish to go the blacksmith and pick up Fíli’s sword he had commissioned… without any guards.” 

Thorin rumbled, a noise that sounded similar to a murmur of “Make sure that Nori is watching them” which Balin took as a sign that something was bothering his friend and king. Balin smiled at the mention of the notorious spymaster and shook his head. The white-haired dwarf quirked a bushy brow and folded his arms across his chest. 

“You seem troubled, lad. Is something wrong?” Balin questioned, leaning closer to Thorin. 

Thorin thought about confessing to his friend but sat back to think. Even from his spot next to the Dwarf king, Balin could see a miniature war raging in Thorin’s head; there was something obviously on his mind and Balin was curious to know what. 

After a few moments of silence, the Dwarf king exhaled deeply, his concerns rising to the surface. “I fear I am becoming too old, _bâh_. I am not the same dwarf I once was. These past few years have aged me terribly.” he murmured quietly.  

Balin patted his friend on the bicep as Thorin turned to look the white-haired dwarf. “We all age, Thorin. And time, as daunting as it may be, laddie, waits for no one; not even a king.” Balin replied as he stood up from his seat. When the Dwarf king made no comment, Balin took that as his signal to leave. 

“I will gather the others.” With that said, Balin strode out of the meeting hall, a sad smile on his lips as he ventured to find the troublesome princes and his brother. 

* * *

When Balin had gone and the doors were closed again, Thorin was left in a room full of deafening silence. Sitting up in his chair, Thorin ran a hand over his tired face and dropped his hand to hit his thigh. He slowly took the crown off his head and placed it on the table with a sigh. He stared at the silver and mithril encrusted crown that was specifically made for his coronation. The first few months after his coronation, Thorin soon felt the same stress that his grandfather had experienced during his reign, even without the gold sickness lingering. 

All the weight of the Dwarven kingdom had fallen on his broad shoulders, pouring out more responsibilities than one would ever hope to have. Age lines were becoming more prominent and taking their place on his forehead, wrinkling when he frowned or scowled. More grey streaks found their way into his dark hair and curled down his broad shoulders. His beard stayed neatly trimmed and was cropped short, even if he was a descendant of the Longbeards. He could not bare to grow out his beard, not after the desolation caused by the dragon, Smaug. So many lives were lost that day and he simply wished for them to be remembered after all these years. 

Mahal, so much time had passed. To think he was banished from his home, battled the Pale Orc, went on a journey with twelve dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard, fought a dragon and was able to reclaim his homeland. Was this his life?  

If it was, Thorin Oakenshield truly felt old. 

And with each day that passed, it was all the same. The King Under the Mountain had fallen into a routine. He woke at the crack of dawn for early training with Dwalin and his nephews, spent long, tiring hours during the day with dozens of meetings and conferences, and ate leftover food that was brought to his chambers. At this point, his life had turned into an endless cycle. 

And just when he felt he could fall asleep, Thorin jolted in surprise at the sound of knocking. He long to have a few more minutes to himself but that was not the case, especially for kings. The dark haired king looked at the crown one last time before slipping the headpiece over his head once more. He cleared his throat and wiped away any emotion from his face as the doors opened and dwarves began to file in.      

Another meeting meant more politics which would lead to even more arguments. More arguments meant giving an an even larger headache for the Dwarf king. But this was routine... regardless of how much Thorin hated it.  

By the time the meeting had drawn to a close and remaining dwarves were leaving to go home, night had fallen over Dale and Erebor. Stars riddled themselves across the sky and flickered in the moonlight. Families in Dale and the surrounding villages were settling down for dinner, drinking wine and eating hearty food that would settle deep in their stomachs. Others gathered around the fireplace, dressed in their nightclothes and eager to hear stories and sing songs before retiring for the night. 

However, for the Dwarf king, it was the end of an exhausting day and all he wanted to do was take a long, hot bath and go to bed. But he knew that would not happen. As per usual, Thorin and Balin were the last to leave the meeting, shutting the doors behind them and walked down the corridor. Eventually, the two went their separate ways and Balin left his king to walk towards his room, more like trudge to his room. He could skip his dinner; it was not the first time he had done it. Dís would make a fuss the next day but all Thorin wanted was an end this long day.  

Thorin made it back to his chambers and slipped off his heavy cloak and crown with a groan. He strode over to his desk and braced his hands on the chair. He saw the papers and found himself swimming in nothing but words and numbers. He suppressed a tired moan and sat down at his desk and once again began to work.  

It was going to be a long night. 

* * *

While he continued to work, the Dwarf king failed to notice that his door was open and that he had a visitor standing in the doorway. It was not until they spoke when he finally looked up. 

“You look exhausted.” 

There stood Bilbo who was leaning in the doorway, his hairy feet crossed and a candle in his left hand. He was dressed in brown trousers and his night shirt. The trousers were rolled up to the top of his knees, giving the dwarf king a good view of the hobbit’s legs. There were dirt smudges and grass stains on his legs from working in his garden. As he trailed up eyes upwards to meet his face, Thorin noticed that Bilbo had a small smirk on his lips.  

“You do realize that everyone has gone to bed except you?” Bilbo asked with a tilt of his head.

“I have.” Thorin murmured as Bilbo brushed back his hair with a laugh. The dwarf leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger.  

“What time is it?” he asked as he stretched his arms above his head. He cracked his neck and rubbed at the back of his neck, groaning from the stiffness. 

“Late enough for your candle to almost be out.” The hobbit stated simply.  

Thorin looked down at his candle and noticed that it was about to go out. It probably had another hour left but the king was not going to take any chances. He blew out the candle as Bilbo strode over to the desk and placed his candle on it.  

“Why are you up so late then?” Thorin asked. 

“Frodo came into my room and said that he had a nightmare, so I decided to let him sleep in my bed for the night,” The hobbit said. He ran a hand through his curls and rubbed his temples with a sigh. “I had a feeling you would still be awake at this hour, so I thought I would come check on you.” 

“Thank you for your concern.” he murmured. “Is Frodo is alright?”

Bilbo nodded. “Nothing a glass of warm milk and story couldn’t fix.”

Thorin smiled and watched the hobbit closely. It was obvious that the hobbit was tired. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and he looked as if he had lost some weight. It felt like ages ago since he had returned to Erebor carrying a young Frodo in his arms. And yet it was only a few months ago. Their relationship was still fragile but Thorin was doing everything he could to help mend it, even if that meant taking baby steps.

They stood in awkward silence until Thorin cleared his throat and said, “I am going to take a bath...”

Bilbo blushed and coughed. “Oh, then, I will just go - uhm, back to my room - ” 

“No!”

The hobbit straightened his back and stared at Thorin, confused. The king cleared his throat again and then dropped his hands at his side.

“You are welcome to stay if you would like,” Thorin said. He stood up from his desk, his joints still sore from the day. “It would be nice to have some company.” The hobbit blinked several times before he nodded in reply. He smiled and went to sit on the sofa while Thorin slipped away into his bathroom. 

He readied himself a hot bath which he soaked himself in for some time. Once he was out of the bath, he dressed into his night clothes and strolled out of the bathroom. He looked over to the sofa and found Bilbo curled tightly into a ball, fast asleep. The Mountain king smiled, grabbed a blanket from his own bed and laid it over the sleeping hobbit. Bilbo stirred but did not wake which made Thorin sigh in relief. He brushed a stray curl from Bilbo’s face and then left to blow out the candle and go straight to bed. Within moments of his head hitting the pillow, the King Under the Mountain was fast asleep.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, chapter two! I am so glad that you all seem to like the story! Do let me know what you all think! I love hearing from you all!
> 
> There are no warnings applied to this chapter. But we get to meet a few new characters!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All materials belong to J.R.R Tolkien. I simply own the original characters.

* * *

 

Glancing longingly at his personal bath, Fíli then trudged to his bed with a tired groan. Yawning loudly, Fíli flopped onto his king-size bed, his dirty blonde hair fanning out on the pillows. He curled onto the bed, slowly turning onto his back and stared up at his ceiling with half-lidded eyes. He lay quietly in his bed, an arm resting behind his head while he continued to gaze up at the ceiling. It was not long before his eyes slowly slid shut and the prince fell into a blissful sleep.

It was not long before Fíli woke to the servants leaving his quarters. He remained on the bed, waiting patiently for the door the close with a quiet thud! When the noise was heard, the prince quickly rose from his slumber and began to trek into the bathroom where the bath was filled of hot water. Fíli eagerly stripped down and sunk into the steaming tub. Sighing, the prince cracked his neck and popped his aching back, resting comfortably against the bath. He submerged himself into the tub, dunking his head under the water. 

After his relaxing bath, Fíli reluctantly pulled himself out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist and squeezing out the excess water from his gold tresses. He finished drying himself off, changed into a new pair of small clothes, and went to his bed for the rest of his attire. As he pulled on a new pair of trousers and tunic, he failed to hear the door open from behind him. His brother crept into the room, closing the door behind him. Fíli’s head turned, his fingers finishing the braids on his mustache and his lips curling up into a smile. 

Fíli quirked a curious blonde brow as Kíli strode towards him with his hands behind his back. “Are you hiding something from me, _nadadith_?” He asked as he went to the bed and sat down. 

“What makes you say that?” Kíli asked with a wicked grin on his lips. 

The blonde prince quirked a brow. “You are up to something, aren’t you?” 

Kíli stared back with that stupid grin still on his lips. _I don’t even know why I ask myself that question anymore._ The blonde prince thought with a shake of his head. Thus he rolled his eyes and sighed as Kíli laughed and grabbed his brother’s boots from the floor and tossed them to him. Fíli slipped on his boots and the two made their way out of the room. 

“I’ve been wrangled into babysitting Frodo so you’ll have to make a fool of yourself in front of that cute girl without me rescuing you in the nick of time,” Kíli teased which earned him a hard poke into his ribs. 

“Knock it off Kíli,” the blonde prince said. “I don’t need you to rescue me! I can handle this!” 

Kíli snorted. “Right,” he said. “Good luck, dear brother. You’ll need it.” The dark haired prince took another turn down the hall and headed towards Bilbo’s room to collect Frodo for the day. Fíli rolled his eyes and ventured down a set of stairs where Nori stood waiting for him. 

 _I can never catch a break, can I?_ The blonde prince shook his head as the spymaster strode up next to him and the two continued their way out of the palace. 

“Did Uncle send you to watch me?” 

Nori shrugged and said nothing. _Of course._ The blonde prince thought with a huff. Fíli dug out a coin from his pocket and he flipped it into the air. Quick as a snake, Nori’s hand shot out and caught the coin within moments of it leaving Fíli’s hand. He examined the coin before biting it and smiled when he found it was gold. He glanced over at Fíli who had continued ahead of him, not even looking back. The spymaster tucked the coin into his boot and grinned at the blonde prince’s back.

“I prefer the term ’observing from afar’.” 

“So in other words, we won’t breathe a word of this to my uncle, right Master Nori?” Fíli asked as they walked out of the palace and onto the main bridge. 

The spymaster chuckled and bowed his head to the young prince. “Of course, your highness; my lips are sealed.” 

And thus, the pair were off to venture into Dale.

* * *

On the outskirts of Dale while sitting in a chair on the outside of her home, an elderly dwarf by the name of Lora was knitting a wool scarf and humming an old tune. As she finished the end of the song, Lora continued to knit her scarf. The sheep’s wool being warm, soft, and malleable. She was dressed in a dark gray dress, with black stitching, and a leather corset wrapped tightly around her middle. 

Lora glanced up from her work to watch the grounds in front of her and smirked when she saw her granddaughter, Bryn. The wind was coming in from the north, rustling the grass and the strands of her hair brushed against her cheek. The auburn locks blended well with the dwarf’s tanned skin and brought out her freckles that scattered themselves along the bridge of her nose. She wore a dark blue dress and a dark brown leather corset to complete the look. As she lined up with her target, all the present noise faded into the background as she prepared to throw the silver blade. 

No wind. No sound. No interruptions. Just the way she liked it. 

As Bryn’s hazel eyes narrowed, she drew in a deep breath and slowly closed her eyes. Within moments, the leather bound blade was released from her fingertips. Said blade whizzed its way through the air, zipping past several branches before striking its target with a lazy _thump_!

Hearing the _thump_! Bryn opened her eyes and found herself looking at a cherry-red apple with a knife sticking out of it. The auburn haired girl grinned in victory. She strode over to the tree and detached the blade from the apple. The apple fell to the ground and rolled away from the tree. Bryn wiped the blade clean of “apple guts” and sheathed it at her hip. She snagged an apple from the tree and began to snack on it. 

The older woman cleared her throat. “Bryn, I thought you were going to be working the smithy this afternoon with your brother,” she spoke, folding her arms over her chest, giving her granddaughter a pointed look. “Didn’t you have some big project to complete? Like the sword that was commissioned by the Crown Prince himself?” 

The auburn haired dwarf flushed as she let out a curse under her breath. Must’ve forgotten about that… She finished eating her apple and ran towards the porch. Bryn raced through the front door and Lora could only sigh and shake her head. The woman muttered a few words under her breath with a scowl as she walked towards her rocking chair. 

Bryn rushed out the door as her grandmother finally sat down in her chair. She was making her way up the trail when Lora whistled sharply. The girl skidded to a halt, turned around, and ran back to the front porch. She bent down and gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek before running off again. Leaning back in her rocking chair, Lora could only laugh and watch her granddaughter’s retreating figure towards the gates of Dale. 

When Bryn entered the gates, it was bustling with life. Of course, it was always like this. Since Smaug had fallen and the Battle of the Five Armies, Dale was finally able to retain its former glory of a colorful and prosperous city. Brightly colored shops scattered themselves throughout the city. Travelers would come to have a drink, gather supplies for a long trip, or just have a nice talk with one of the elders. 

At the moment, Bryn observed to see many different travelers; dwarves, Men, and the occasional band of elves. All dressed up for their long journeys that lay ahead. By now, fall was near its end and the new year was right around the corner. The weather was turning colder each day that passed and frost would appear on the window panes. 

As a gust of air rolled through the streets, Bryn strolled to the forge and slipped into the main shop where her sister worked. Poking their head from behind the door, Bryn’s sister appeared from the main office. Gemma smirked at her sister and folded her arms over her chest. 

“Alright, what stopped you from coming in early this time?” Gemma questioned. “You were suppose to be here half an hour ago!” 

Hopping on the table, Bryn sat sideways and leaned back against the shop’s wall. She detached one of her wrist-daggers and placed it in one of the lanterns; just for safe keeping. Bryn hopped down from the counter and began to wander around the shop. Gemma watched helplessly as her sister strolled around the shop, simply tinkering and piddling. 

Gemma rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. “Bryn? Are you even listening to me?” she asked. 

The auburn haired dwarf looked up. “Hmm? Sorry, must’ve been distracted.” Bryn said. She looked around the shop and cleared her throat. “Is Rodric at the forge now?” 

Gemma nodded and sighed. “Yes, and he’s probably waiting for you to finish with the Prince’s sword. I suggest you get moving before the Prince’s servants come for the sword.” 

Without another word, Gemma turned on her heel and walked back to the main office. Bryn waited until the door was shut and then hopped over the counter and headed to the back door. She slipped out and walked over to the forge where her older brother was working. He took a step back to take a breath and sat down on a crate. He was soaked to the bone with sweat and wiped away the stray sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. He looked up and waved to Bryn who did the same in return. 

“So, where is that beautiful masterpiece I have been working on?” Bryn asked as she picked up her apron. 

Rodric pointed to one of the shelves. “Sitting right where you left it yesterday,” he said, jerking a thumb to the shelf above him. “I thought you would want to finish polishing it before the Prince's servants shows up.” 

Bryn kissed her brother on the cheek and patted him on the cheek. “Thank you _nadad_ , I can take care of things from here.” 

Rodric nodded, untied his apron, and walked out of the forge, leaving his sister to finish her work. When he finally disappeared into the shop, Bryn stood on the crate to pull the double-edged sword down. It was not like most dwarfish swords but it was made to fit one. While most were heavily in hand, this one was light in comparison. Made from a metal that was a mix of silver and black in color; the Mirkwood Elves referred to as “elegant but powerful”. Bryn never got the name but it took her a great deal of money to purchase this metal. She took the weapon to the polishing station and took out a new rag to give the sword a shine. 

“Excuse me?” 

Bryn looked up from her polishing and felt her face drain of color. _Mahâl, he is more handsome in person…_ she thought as the Crown Prince himself approached her. _I could’ve sworn that his servants were suppose to come pick it up!_ She quickly covered up the sword with a cloth and walked around the table to hide it from view. 

“Good afternoon your highness, can I help you with anything?” Bryn asked.

“Yes, I had a sword commissioned here about a month ago and I came to pick it up in person; it is ready?” he questioned. 

Bryn straightened her posture and nodded, her cheeks flushed. “Oh yes, I just finished polishing it. If you would like, I can show you the final product.” 

Fíli gestured for her to continue. “Please, by all means.” 

The auburn haired dwarf turned to the table and removed the cloth from the sword. She took hold of it by the hilt and then presented her creation to the prince. Fíli’s eyes widened at the sight of the weapon; it was beautiful. He looked at the girl in front of him who was beaming with pride. 

“Here you are, your highness,” she said handing the weapon to him. Fíli took it with caution and admired the craftsmanship of the blade. He noticed the engravings were written in Khuzdul and traced over them. 

“ _The lionheart._ ” he read aloud. 

Bryn’s head shot up at the words; she was going to murder her brother even if it was the last thing she did on Middle Earth. _Damn you Rodric. I told you to engrave just his name but you didn’t listen to me, did you?_ Bryn ran her fingers through her hair and laughed, embarrassed. “I asked my brother to engrave the sword with your name but it seems - ” 

“No, I like it. This is one of the finest swords I have seen.” 

Bryn stood agape, simply staring in shock of the prince. _That was not what I expected._ She cleared her throat and nodded. “Oh, thank you, your highness. I hope it serves you well. It was a honor to take part in forging it,” Bryn explained with a stammer. “Of all the swords I’ve made, this one is my favorite.” 

Fíli sent the girl a smile. “Since it is a favorite of yours, I will promise to take good care of it.” he said. 

Bryn had to force herself not to blush. _I seriously cannot be falling for this!_  

“If I may ask, what is it made of?”

“This lovely beauty,” Bryn said as she gently took the sword from the prince. “is made from a metal forged only by the Mirkwood Elves. They usually use it for their weapons and some pieces of jewelry. Believe me when I say that it was very hard to get my hands on this metal; I was afraid that they would want an arm and a leg for it. I can’t remember the name but it is suppose to mean ‘elegant but powerful’.”

Fíli nodded and continued to examine the sword. It was truly a beautiful blade; the craftsmanship alone was exquisite. It was obvious that a lot of work was put into making this sword. The blonde prince traced his fingers over the engraving and chuckled to himself. He turned to look at Bryn and gave her a small smile. 

“You're very talented,” Fíli said. “I haven’t come across a female blacksmith with such skill as yours.” 

 _Is he… flirting with me?_ Bryn smiled softly and ran her fingers through her hair. "Thank you, your highness."

There was nothing wrong with being attracted to a handsome-looking dwarf… however, this was the Crown Prince and he probably had _dozens_ of lasses lined up to just say “Hello”. Not to mention all the upper class lasses who had more to their name than she did. Reluctantly, she took the weapon back to the table to wrap it into a gold silk cloth and then placed it into a box. She handed the sword to the prince and then bowed her head to him. 

“I'm happy you like it, your highness.” Bryn said. 

Fíli tucked the box under his arm and asked, “What is your name?” 

She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off. 

“Bryn!” Gemma called out. _That’s one way of giving the prince my name._ Bryn sighed and then looked past the blonde prince’s shoulder to see her sister with her hands placed firmly on her hips. “It’s getting late! Don’t you have somewhere you have to be?” 

Bryn’s hazel eyes widened. _Damnit…_ The auburn haired girl bowed her head to the prince. “I’m so sorry your highness but I have somewhere I have to be,” Bryn replied as she hastily untied her apron. “Do come again!” She called as she raced past him and her sister who had to jump out of the way to avoid a collision. 

“Thank… you?” he muttered to himself. _Strange._  Fíli stood silently as a pair of footsteps approached him. Nori had his hands clasped behind his back and grin on his lips. He waved to Gemma who rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her. 

“So, how did that go?” The spymaster asked the prince.

Fíli said nothing; he was still confused about the girl's hasty retreat.

Nori closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you at least get her name?” he mumbled. 

“Her name is Bryn.” 

The spymaster sighed, clasped a hand on the prince’s shoulder and shrugged. “Hmph, I guess that’s a start. We’ll work on your technique with the girl later, lad. But right now, I’m starving and I hope Bilbo still has some seed cakes leftover from yesterday.”

With that said, the two left the forge and headed out of the city. Nori was ahead of the prince who trailed behind, his eyes casted down at the box under his arm. He paused for a moment and turned to look back at the forge. He watched as Bryn gave her sister a hug and ran out of the back door once more. He smiled to himself and then turned again to continue walking towards Erebor where his family was waiting for him.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Please leave some kudos! See you guys in chapter three!
> 
> Khuzdul Translations:  
> nadadith - little brother  
> nadad - brother


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing as always.

* * *

“Soren? Soren? Are you awake?”

There was a huff from inside the mine.

“I am now.” came the growled reply.

Bryn rolled her hazel eyes and approached the mine with a lantern in her hand. “Well, come on you lazy bum. It’s a beautiful night.”

She placed the lantern on the ground next to her and folded her arms over her chest. She stood at the mouth of the mine and waited for the creature that lived inside to crawl out. When nothing happened, Bryn huffed and gave the creature a pointed look.

“Do you want to go for a ride or shall I leave you to your beauty sleep?”

The creature let out a puff of warm air and then opened its eyes to reveal a pair of golden orbs with narrow slits. It stared at Bryn who grinned back and began to fasten her harness’ straps and buckles. She pulled her fur lined cloak tighter around her body to keep her warm from the night air. She moved away from the mine to allow the creature to move out of the mine and smiled in satisfaction at the creature that stood before her.

“Don’t be like that, Soren.” Bryn chuckled. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The dragon, Soren, had a lean and muscular body with a slender tail in the shape of a spade. For those who had caught a single glimpse of the fallen Smaug, it was obvious that this dragon was smaller than the beast. His scales were the color of thunderclouds brewing a terrible storm that blended well with the shadows of the mine where he slept. He had muscular limbs with three digits on each foot that ended with powerful talons that were perfect for snatching prey and climbing. Equipped with a pair of smokey-colored wings that ran from his shoulders blades to his hips, vital for making his escape from his enemies. A row of ridges ran down from the top of his head to the end of his tail, all evenly spaced out. Soren’s head was normal in size with several horns spiked backwards. And strapped to his back was a dark brown saddle just the right size for a dwarf who loved flying to new heights.

“I take it you had a good day at the forge today?” Soren asked as he leaned down to allow Bryn to climb onto his back.

The auburn haired girl climbed onto the dragon and strapped herself into the saddle with a sigh. “Well, yes. I met the Crown Prince today; he came by for his sword,” Bryn explained as she pulled back her hair and braided it to let it sit on her shoulder. She brushed a stray hair from her face. “He was... nice.”

The dragon huffed, extended his wings and stretched. “ _Nice_?” he repeated, confused. “Did you not say a few days ago that you found him, and I dare quote, ‘very good-looking and muscular’?” Soren asked curiously.

Bryn coughed loudly as her cheeks began to redden. “Wh - what are you talking about? I said no such thing!” she snapped defensively.

Soren rolled his eyes, unimpressed by the attempt made by his rider.

Bryn scoffed and struggled to find her words. She then closed her mouth and shook her head. Her mind went back to earlier that day, causing a small smile to form on her lips. She had to admit though, the Crown Prince was very attractive. _With his charming smile, gentle eyes, and those… what the Hell am I doing? I am_ not _fawning over the prince like some lovestruck girl!_

She huffed before she glared at the dragon with narrowed eyes. “I have no comment on the matter, Soren, so I suggest you drop it.” she muttered. “Now, are we going to fly or what?”

Soren rolled his golden eyes; but he was not convinced. He had known Bryn for far too long not to know how she worked. But still, he adjusted his wings and tail for flight and waited for Bryn to lower herself in the saddle. She held onto the straps and checked to make sure her boots were settled into the stirrups. When everything was clear, she leaned up and patted Soren on the neck who took that as his cue to lift off. The dragon flapped his large wings once and was up in the air. His scales provided the perfect cover for the late night flights. It was not long before the two were flying high into the night sky and soon disappeared into the clouds.

 

* * *

 

It was freedom. Sweet, sweet freedom.

That feeling of no boundaries, just the open night sky. That sense of adrenaline pumped wildly through her veins and made her heart want to burst from her chest. She could allow herself to be free when she was flying with Soren. The pair could be themselves. Bryn did not have to hide behind a mask and pretend that she was just a blacksmith. And Soren did not have to hide away from the world in an abandoned mine. He could be... well, a dragon.

The wind rushed through her hair and brushed against her cheeks. She had her eyes closed and took in all the senses around her. It was chilly and Bryn was thankful she brought her heavier cloak for the ride. She could smell rain with all the clouds around her. She opened her eyes and ran her fingers through one of the clouds and grinned. That feeling of being weightless. To be flying high above the clouds and soar beyond the stars. It was moments like these that Bryn could close her eyes, throw her arms out behind her and let Soren do what he did best.

“I don’t think this will ever get old, Soren,” Bryn murmured as she leaned back into the saddle.

Soren scoffed. “You are not the one doing all the work.”

Bryn leaned down and patted Soren on the neck. “Please don’t ruin the moment,” she said. “The moon is out, there’s no wind, and it is not freezing for once.”

Soren surveyed his surroundings and found his rider to be right. The moon hung above them, allowing them to see all around them. It glowed against his scales, making them look a lighter shade of grey. Even at this late of an hour, Soren could see the smallest of creatures that scurried on through the grass below them. He flew through some patches of small clouds, their trails following the end of his wings. Soren swooped through a larger cloud making Bryn yelp from the sudden burst of cold air and water. Her hair was now wet and clung to the back of her neck. She shivered and settled back into the comfort of her saddle, scowling at the chuckling dragon.

“That wasn’t funny, Soren!” Bryn snapped.

She looked behind her and rolled her eyes as Soren dipped down and sped towards the ground. She couldn’t help but laugh as they began to gain speed. Bryn hung onto the horn of the saddle and then in a second, the two were up in the air again. The dwarf lass shut her eyes and waited until the speed began to die down. Soren beat his wings down and adjusted himself to where they were simply flying with the breeze. Bryn sat up again in the saddle and looked all around her.

“Are we going to talk about the Prince now?” Soren asked.

“I thought I told you I had no comment on the matter!” she said, sighing.

Soren snorted from below her. Bryn patted him on the neck and leaned forward in the saddle. The gray dragon tilted his wings and the two swooped down to one of the many cliffs near Erebor’s grand structure. There were no guards around which was a good thing for them. Soren landed gently and folded his wings back. Bryn dismounted and slid down Soren’s wing before landing on her feet. She took off her harness, walked over to the edge of the cliff and sat down. She let her feet dangle over the edge while Soren walked over to her and laid down next to her, his head held high.

“Well, do you find him attractive?”

“ _Mahâl_ ,” she groaned from below. “I am _not_ having this conversation with you, Soren.”

The dragon gently nudged the rider with his nose while she was unbraiding her hair. She nudged him back but it had little affect to him. Bryn turned to him and scratched the scales just below his chin. Soren hummed and closed his golden eyes, a small smile coming to his lips. Bryn rolled her eyes and continued to scratch until the dragon lay fully on the ground beside her. She moved away from the edge and pressed her back against the dragon’s side.

“Are you still going to avoid your attraction to the Crown Prince?”

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

The dragon snorted again. He looked up at the night sky with his rider muttering beside him. It was peaceful. Thankfully, there barely any wind out tonight which made it much easier for flying. The stars were scattered across the sky and twinkled high above them. The two sat in silence before a faint glimmer of red and green began to dance across the sky. It began to build and grow, its movements beginning to be more graceful and fluid-like.

_The Northern Lights._

They sat in silence for some time, simply watching the lights dance their way across the night sky.

“It would never work out between us anyway,” Bryn said, glancing up at the dragon. “He’s the Crown Prince of Erebor and I’m a blacksmith, a commoner; he would never want me.”

“You are also a dragon rider.” Soren said.

Bryn sighed and shook her head. “Yes, that may be true but if he were to find out that you existed I would be thrown into the dungeons and your head would be put on a spike.”

“... You do have a point there.”

Bryn laughed and patted Soren on the shoulder. “I appreciate the fact that you are trying to make me feel better, but there are some things you can’t change, Soren. ”

The dragon pressed his nose to her back in response and hummed. “You should not doubt yourself, Bryn. Any dwarf would be lucky to have you as a companion.” Soren said softly.

The girl smiled and scratched Soren’s chin. “Thank you for that. Now, come on, we better fly back to the mine before someone decides to drop by,” Bryn said as she got up to her feet. “Besides, I’m sure that my grandmother will want me back at a decent hour.” She quickly fastened her harness and climbed onto Soren. She grabbed onto the saddle, whistled, and then the two were up in the air once more.

They flew their way back to the abandoned mine with ease and without any distractions. Bryn dismounted from Soren’s back and unbuckled the saddle. Soren watched silently as his rider dragged the leather saddle into the mine and hid it behind some rocks. She strode of the mine and turned to stand in front of Soren with a small smile on her face. Bryn held up her hand and Soren pressed his forehead against it and hummed.

“I will see you tomorrow, Soren,” she said while scratching around the spikes.

“Rest well, Bryn.” Soren murmured. He brought his head forward and touched his forehead against the girl’s forehead. Bryn placed her hand on the dragon’s cheek and patted him there.

“And to you as well.”

Bryn smiled and began to make her way down the rocky hillside. Soren stepped out of the mine and surveyed his surroundings. His golden eyes immediately locked onto a herd of deer that were feeding not far from where he was at. It was late for these creatures to be feeding but that made it much more fun for Soren. He flapped his wings once and was up in the air; it was time to go hunting.

 

* * *

 

When Bryn arrived home, her grandmother was still awake. She sat in her rocking chair again, knitting another scarf made of a pale grey wool. Lora narrowed her eyes at her granddaughter who smiled and sat on the porch next to her. The two sat in a comfortable silence before Lora sat down her knitting and glanced over to Bryn who was braiding her hair again. The older dwarf cleared her throat and tapped at her bearded chin.

“Your siblings told me that the Crown Prince came by the forge this afternoon to retrieve his sword,” she murmured. “How did that go?”

Bryn shrugged, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “It went fine, I guess. He was very polite and friendly,” she said. “He really liked the sword.”

Lora nodded and folded her hands over her lap. “That’s good. Maybe he will come back again to have another sword made.” Bryn shrugged in response. Lora closed her eyes and said, “I hear he is incredibly handsome…”

“Well, yes, I suppose he is - ” Bryn cut herself off and then whirled her head to look at her grandmother.

Lora had the faint of a smile on her lips but she was obviously chuckling on the inside. The younger dwarf groaned and fell back onto the porch, digging the palms of her hands into her eyes. _I can’t believe I fell for that; I’m such an idiot._ Lora opened her eyes and watched as her granddaughter shook her head, sighing.

“I am starting to feel that this conversation is becoming one-sided...” she moaned, flopping an arm over her eyes.

Lora rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that, Bryn. You know I only tease you because I love you,” she said with a chuckle. She patted her granddaughter on the knee. Bryn removed her arm from her face and stared up at her grandmother with narrowed eyes. Lora sat up in her chair and smiled down at the younger dwarf. “There is nothing wrong with being attracted to someone; I am just happy it is with a dwarf and not an Orc or Goblin.”

Bryn huffed and got to her feet. “I see you have _some_ faith in me.” she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Lora chuckled and brushed a strand of Bryn’s auburn hair from her face. She smiled and patted the young dwarf on the cheek. “I will _always_ have faith in you, Bryn. Now, get some sleep, I can’t have you falling asleep at the counter tomorrow.”

Bryn grinned, bent down, kissed her grandmother on the cheek before she went inside to go to bed. She silently went up the stairs, careful not to wake her siblings. She snuck into her room and closed the door behind her. Bryn strode over to the open window and looked outside where she saw something streak across the sky. She shook her head and closed her window. A smile formed on her lips as she turned to her bed and flopped onto it. Without even bothering to change clothes, she curled into a tight ball, closed her eyes and was fast asleep.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be some time before the next chapter since I have been working on a new story. Plus, college is right around the corner. Please be patient if you can!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading!
> 
> Translations:  
> nadad - brother  
> bâh - friend


End file.
